On the Flip Side
by AmbrLupin
Summary: John Winchester knew something was needed for his boys, even after his death. So he enlisted a little help after the fact. Now Dean has to deal with what he fears most, Sam’s psychic powers, because well... They’re not Sam’s anymore.
1. So it begins

On the Flip Side

Chapter one: So it begins

By: Ambrlupin

Summary: John Winchester knew something was needed for his boys, even after his death. So he enlisted a little help after the fact. Now Dean has to deal with what he fears most, Sam's psychic powers, because well... They're not Sam's anymore.

Disclaimer: -sigh- Nope. I wish I owned them. But I do not. They'd take them away if I did.

A/N: This is my very first Supernatural fanfic... Cut me a little slack, kay?

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If there was something Dean understood, it was killing things. Didn't matter what it was, if he could touch it, he could kill it. He had a lot of rules, come to think of it. A lot of rules to live his life by. To keep the supernatural at bay, on the edges of his family.

Never again. The freaky stuff could haunt someone elses ass, and then he'd look into it. So, it was a little nerve wracking with Sammy and his new powers. He was, quite frankly, a little scared of them.

The psychics they had hunted, the ones bordering on insanity. What was going to happen to Sam? Would he end up like that? No. Dean wouldn't let him. He'd fight for him, die for him. But as Dean lay in the bed, staring up at the ceiling while Saturday night traffic rushed around outside the motel, he wasn't too sure this was a battle he could fight.

"Dean?" Poking his head into the room, Sam was a little shocked to see big brother laying in his bed, arms behind his head. Doing nothing. On a _Saturday. _"Dean...You okay?"

"Hm? Yeah... Why wouldn't I be?" Dean pushed up on his arms, a slight smirk on his face. "Wait, don't answer that. Got the food?" He sat up, careful of the bandages wrapped around his stomach.

Rolling his eyes, and biting back the urge to tell him to be careful, Sam tossed him the take out bag, perching himself in a nearby chair, sipping on a soda. "So. I looked around into our little legend."

Busy pulling fries out of the bag, Dean hardly glanced up. "And?"

"Bust. There isn't anything alive or dead haunting this place." His fingers tapped on the table absently as he watched Dean unwrap his burger. "Dean, why are we here? Why did you bring us out to the middle of nowhere?"

Taking a bite from his burger, Dean ignored him, setting the wrapping on the counter, fries tossed on top with a squirt of ketchup to the side. "Man, why can't they ever manage to keep the food in one piece?" He demanded, pushing the meat back onto the bun.

"Dean."

There it was, right on time. The patented 'Sammy-Look.' He knew it was there without even looking up. So he didn't look up. "Yes, Sammy?"

"You're hurt-"

"It's a scratch."

"- and you decide, all of a sudden we need to leave-"

"The old lady and the dog next door were annoying me."

"- and you drive us out to no-where Utah-"

"Have you seen some of the girls here?"

"Dean!"

Agitated now, Dean set his food down on the bed and looked over at Sam, mouth set in a thin line. "Drop it, Sam." Truth be told, he wasn't sure why they were there. It had been a passing feeling, like they needed to be there for something. But apparently, there was nothing here as his brother so happily pointed out.

"No, I'm not going to drop it, Dean. Tell me what the hell has been going on with you lately. You're distracted, you hardly eat, barely sleep. You don't go out anymore, and look." Sam gestured at the bandages. "You got hurt. You never get hurt, Dean. You get them before they get you."

Without saying a word, Dean got to his feet, sweeping out the front door, picking up his boots and a shirt along the way. Sam, a little surprised, got to his feet and was about to follow him when Dean opened the car door.

"What are you doing?"

"Going out." Slamming the door, Dean backed out of the motel driveway, and didn't look back. Yes. He did get them before they got him. That was the problem.

Because he couldn't exactly hunt his own brother, now could he.

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"Are you sure this is a good idea, John?" Missouri leaned back in her seat, shaking her head at the empty room. In her hands she held a piece of paper, a letter that had been sent to her along with news of John Winchester's death.

"I mean, I trust you. I just wish I knew what you were thinking. This may be beyond even me to accomplish. Of course, you never thought about that, did you? You always said anything was possible." Running her hand through her hair, she sighed and nodded. "Well, you got it. I hope you're right about this, John... I hope you're right."

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Sam sighed, shutting the door angrily as he slumped back in his seat. Dean was gone, and he was only left with more answers. That was usual, but he felt like Dean was keeping something from him, and it was important.

Even though his brother wasn't one to open up to people, you would think he could at least be straight with Sam. A little, or something. Fingers playing idly with the zipper on his jacket, he picked up his drink again, sipping at it while he ran some sites on the laptop.

Time seemed to slow, then, to an agonizing crawl. He could almost see the clock slow, the ticking loud in his ears as a pressure began to build up behind his eyes. Wincing, his eyes clenched shut and a slight whimper forced itself past his lips.

In mere seconds his head was pounding, and agony ran up and down his spine, making his shiver and convulse. The soda fell from his hand, popping open and splashing the carpet as he fell to his knees from the chair, hands clasped on either side of his head.

Fire leapt through his body, and Sam felt something inside of him give, a barrier dissolve, an almost audible pop. The pain receded, as if it had never been, leaving him blissfully empty. Swaying on his knees, he blinked, opened his mouth to say something, and passed out cold on the floor.

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He didn't want to go to a bar. He didn't want to go to a club. He didn't want to drive around wasting his gas. Dean had a problem. Groaning in frustration, he hit the palm of his hand against the steering wheel and stared around.

He would give Sam some credit. He _had_ brought them to no-where Utah. Because there was absolutely nothing around. The road he was on now, the road that led out to their motel, led only to their motel. There was nothing here.

Up about a mile or two was the town, if you could call it that, but he didn't feel like going there either. However, going home wasn't an option. He didn't feel like facing Sam and all his 'you need to open up and talk to me' crap.

It wasn't like he didn't want to talk to his little brother, sure he did. But Sam wanted to tread onto ground Dean didn't want to discuss, and keep on pushing at it. He just wouldn't take 'I don't want to talk' as an answer or let it go.

It was frustrating as hell, really.

Smirking a bit, and thankful it was Saturday night and everyone was in town, Dean backed up almost to the motel, and gunned the engine. A little of the good ol' street racing and night air might do him some good.

Punching the gas and pushing it as close to the floor as he dared, Dean threw back his head to laugh, lowering the window as he steered through the night. It was exhilarating, and exactly what he had needed.

What did Sam know anyway? Honestly, he probably figured his brother was stupid. Dean might have stayed up lately, but he still got more sleep than Sam did. But was he bothering him for answers every ten seconds?

Nope.

Suddenly swerving, Dean gasped as he felt a chill race down his spine. Not able to really let go on the gas, he winced as pain exploded in his brain, fingers gripping the wheel so tightly his finger tips were white.

What was this? What... Jerking the wheel, Dean punched the brake, even as another burst of pain left him wanting to scream. Biting hard on his lip to resist the urge, he narrowed his pain filled eyes. He wasn't too good with the 'can't see the problem' problems.

That was more... more Sam's -

Hitting the edge of the road, the Impala slid down the ditch, spinning and nearly flipping from the speed. Thrown around like a rag doll, head snapping forwards and backwards so quick, he was sure his neck had snapped, the hunter gasped and finally let the scream go as fire tore him apart.

With the front wheel still spinning, Dean Winchester passed out cold, his head bowed over the steering wheel.

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so, what did you think? Leave me a review and tell me what I'm doing wrong, what you liked, etc. Thanks!


	2. Where is Dean?

On the Flip Side

Chapter two: Where is Dean?

By: Ambrlupin

Summary: John Winchester knew something was needed for his boys, even after his death. So he enlisted a little help after the fact. Now Dean has to deal with what he fears most, Sam's psychic powers, because well... They're not Sam's anymore.

Disclaimer: -sigh- Nope. I wish I owned them. But I do not. They'd take them away if I did.

A/N: Wow. That was...17 reviews, in the first day. I have never had that happen before. I was a little giddy, to tell you the truth, and that made me hurry to write this chapter up for you guys. Thanks for the reviews, I love them all, and respond to a lot - especially if you ask questions I feel inclined to maybe answer. -grin-

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Missouri felt something in the air change, some balance shift, and she knew that whatever she had just done, per John Winchester's last request, had knocked something off. The paths of fate and destiny had shifted, but in what way she knew not. For good, or for evil.

Closing her eyes, she opened up the part of her that allowed her to see the twists and turns of the demonic network, opened herself up to her psychic powers, and felt herself being thrown backwards, into her own mind with a snap.

Something like ice slid down her spine and Missouri covered her face with her hands.

What had she done?

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"Dean?" That was the first word that passed Sam's lips as he found himself on the floor of the motel, lightly splashed with long dry soda. Afternoon sun blazed outside the window and he groaned, rubbing his head.

Just behind his eyes was a pounding headache, trying to tear his brain apart. It was like the headaches he got during and after a vision, only a hundred times worse. Crawling to his knees, his stomach rolled and he clapped a hand to his mouth, somehow keeping his food in.

"...Dean?" He tried again, using the desk chair to pull himself to his feet. Staggering, a frown on his face, he looked around their hotel room, which looked exactly as it had before Dean had left.

Left. Wait, he wasn't back yet? Rubbing at the bridge of his nose, he started to slowly remember the moments before passing out. The pain, the complete and utter agony of having fire tear through his body, before the darkness had taken him under.

It had been night when that happened. Early on a Saturday night. Opening the door, the hunter winced and shielded his eyes. Bright sunlight flooded the area, but try as hard as he could, he couldn't see the car through his narrowed eyes.

"You okay?" A young girl, playing outside with a bright orange ball, looked up at him with wide, curious eyes. "Mommy said that you shouldn't go outside if you just woke up. Makes your eyes hurt. Did you just wake up, mister? But why? It's lunchtime!"

"Selene." A woman chastised, unlocking the door to a room next to theirs. "Stop being rude, baby." She looked over at Sam, smiling. "I'm sorry, sir... She's curious by nature."

"Its all right." Sam managed a smile back, "It's not a problem, really." It hit him just as she had gotten her daughter inside and was about to close the door. "Ah! Miss... May I ask what day this is?"

Looking at him a little strangely, and giving his appearance credit to the amount of beer he must have consumed, she grinned, a little slowly truth be told. "Sunday."

Sunday. Not saying another word, Sam turned on his heel and shut the door. So he had only been passed out for a few hours. Okay, more than a few. But why? He hadn't had a vision, and that hadn't been like any pain he'd felt before.

But more importantly, where was his brother?

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Grumbling in anger, Dean kicked mud off of his boots, cursing in every language he knew. Great. Just great. As if being in the ditch wasn't enough, he had to go and get mud all over his boots.

Hell, could this day get any worse? Slouching in his jacket, hands in his pockets, he fingered the car keys as he walked along the side of the road. No one had really passed by yet, or else he would have asked for a ride.

Fingers running through his hair, he passed the time with silence before he heard the unmistakable sound of a car and his head snapped up. Waving the dark blazer over, he was happy - extremely so - to see a woman jump out from the driver's side.

"Need a lift?" She said coyly, moving up to him. Her hair was dark, eyes darker, skin pale as ice. A perfect little Goth girl. "Or are you just walking down the side of the road for fun?"

Smirking, Dean chuckled. "A ride sounds nice. You don't mind going back from where you just came from?"

The girl smiled, and it sent warning bells off in his head. "Oh, I'm not going back." Her arm snapped up, and he was suddenly facing down the barrel of a Browning Hi-Power.

Fear slid down his spine, gripping him and squeezing. He had half a second to make a move, half a second to try and save himself, but he was half a second too late. He had been around guns since he was young, but never before had one sounded so loud, so ominous.

Dean went down to the ground, a messy bullet hole between his eyes as the woman calmly placed her gun back in her side holster and walked back to her car. Getting behind the wheel she looked out the window at the sprawled hunter before hitting the gas and speeding away.

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Having finally come to the conclusion Dean wasn't _there_, Sam pulled his cell phone from his back pocket, dialing the other's number as he tossed back a few Tylenol. It was the most he could find, and it did the job.

Listening to the phone ring, and ring, Sam frowned and hit the end button. He'd try him again in a minute, maybe he was on the phone with someone. In two minutes he called him again, and got nothing.

Ten minutes later he received the same treatment, and then thirty. Now getting the feeling something had to be wrong, he pulled on his shoes and the key to the motel room, stuffing it in his back pocket.

"Come on, Dean... Come on." He murmurred, locking the door as he hurried off. He didn't even know where to start looking. He looked around in irritation, phone held to his ear as he waited for the ringing to stop.

"This is Dean Winchester-"

Flicking the phone closed with his thumb, Sam's eyes narrowed as he stowed the phone in his back pocket. Dean better have a good reason for disappearing like this, because if he didn't, Sam was going to kill him.

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Gasping, Dean jerked forward, eyes wild as he clawed at whatever was holding him back, breath coming in short, ragged gasps that left his chest heaving and his heart pounding out of his chest.

Finally tearing the seat belt off, he looked around and tried to calm himself down, even when there was a voice in the back of his mind screaming 'run!' and 'hurry!' Fingers gripping the steering wheel hard enough he was past feeling the pain, he bit his bottom lip until it bled.

The blood helped to clear his head and within minutes he was breathing calmer, relaxing. However, with this new found calmness, pain set in. Pain that doubled him over, sent his hands to his head, almost as if he squeezed hard enough, the feeling would go away.

Music split the silence, his ring tone. It rang and rang until it faded, and all that was left was his ragged breathing. It happened again, and again, until he cursed and reached for it, if only to scream at the one on the line; tell them to stop with the noise, for it was killing him.

Picking it up, he hit the button, growling out a sharp, "What?"

And was met with a dead line.

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And there goes chapter two. I hope you all didn't think I'd kill off Dean-o in the second chapter did you? -gasp- that would just be horrible! Hehe.

The chapter title amuses me, too. Maybe its because I've had a lot of sugar, but really.

Where is Dean?

Where is Waldo?

-giggle-

I know. I'm an idiot.


	3. Not done yet

On the Flip Side

Chapter three: Not done yet

By: Ambrlupin

Summary: John Winchester knew something was needed for his boys, even after his death. So he enlisted a little help after the fact. Now Dean has to deal with what he fears most, Sam's psychic powers, because well... They're not Sam's anymore.

Disclaimer: -sigh- Nope. I wish I owned them. But I do not. They'd take them away if I did.

A/N: Heh. Thank you guys! So much. Heh. I'm a senior in high school, so I'm always running around with graduation coming up, but I will update this for you. I promise.

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Dean let the phone fall from his hand, covering his face. He could feel the cold sweat beaded across his forehead and he shivered violently, even though it was a warm, sunny day outside. What was that?

He had seen himself get shot. He had _seen_ it. He had even felt it, to some extent. Rubbing at his head, he took a few deep breaths that were supposed to calm him down. It only made it worse, because in Dean's mind, he didn't need to calm down.

He needed a large alcoholic beverage and his bed, cause he damn well wasn't getting enough sleep if he was having nightmares about himself dying. Only, it wasn't a nightmare, he knew that just as much as he knew that Sam was the one who had called him. Over and over.

He reached for the phone, but he just couldn't grip it. Sighing, he curled his arm around himself and closed his eyes. In a minute, he'd call him back in just a minute. He was relaxing in the seat, when there was a flash of light behind his eyelids, and he heard the gunshot again.

Jerking, eyes flying open, Dean's breath came out in a ragged hiss. Passing a hand over his eyes, he ran it through his hair. This was ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous. He was sideways with his car in a ditch, and he was clearly losing his mind.

Picking the phone back up, he dialed his brother's cell with shaking fingers. A vision? But no, that wasn't right. Sammy was the one with the psychic mumbo-jumbo, mojo shit. Not him. Not him.

Forcing his voice to sound clear, he answered his brother's loud, "Dean!" with his usual brotherly charisma and charm and asked Sam, politely, if he would mind getting his ass down the road to help back the Impala out of the ditch.

When Dean hung up and sat back in the seat, his hands were still shaking.

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The relief of Dean being all right was short lived when Sam finally managed to hitch a ride down to his brother's location and saw the Impala. "What the hell did you do?" He demanded, helping Dean slide from the window.

The car was almost completely on its side, front tires stuck up of the ground, the back window cracked from a nearby tree branch. Wincing, Dean ran a hand over the side as the tow-truck began to pull his baby from the ditch.

"Dean." Sam placed a hand on his brother's shoulder, and felt a shock run up his arm. He jerked it back, brow furrowed in confusion as Dean turned to look at him with a look that clearly said 'why-the-hell-are-you-touching-me-I'm-in-mourning.'

"The car will be fine - don't snort at me, Dean, I'm serious - How are you?"

Eyebrow raising, Dean shrugged. "I'm fine, Sammy." He was a little touched his brother cared, but irritated as hell that he wasn't caring about the car. Like he should. "Let's get the car back to the motel and I'll take care of it. We're done here."

"But...Wait, Dean...I don't think we are."

Dean paused, his face carefully wiped blank. "Oh...I think we are, and I'm the one driving. So what I say, goes. We're leaving."

"Dean-"

"End of story, Sam."

Sam Winchester stood as his brother stalked off toward the tow-truck, and couldn't help but wonder why it was Dean wouldn't even listen to him when he said they weren't done in Utah.

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'_It just doesn't make any sense. Sam's the one with the powers, I'm the one who supplies the ass-kicking and the good looks. So why in hell am I getting visions?' _Dean's mind was hard at work as he fixed the parts that had been thrown around underneath the Impala as it had spun out of his control. _'I mean... This isn't right.'_

Neither was his work. Falling back on the pavement, Dean rubbed at his face. He had done everything wrong. Clamping his teeth on his bottom lip, he took apart all the work he had just done and started to redo it.

Something hit his foot and rolled off. Blinking, he slid his way out from under the car and looked up into a pair of wide blue-green eyes. "Hiya." Selene grinned, picking up the ball that she had accidently kicked at Dean. "Whatcha doin?"

A grin slid across Dean's face then, as he sat up, wiping his hands on his jean-clad pants. "Trying to fix up my car. What are you doing?"

"Playin." She said with a wide, toothy grin. She paused a moment before holing the ball out to him. "Wanna play with me, mister?"

Having recently told Sam off for wanting to stay longer, the logical thing would have been to decline the offer and continue working. However, he settled on door number two and took the ball from her hands. "Sure. But call me Dean, kay?"

"Okay mister Dean!" She chirped.

"Close enough." He smirked and tossed the ball to her.

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Sam was sitting at the table, one leg propped up on a chair, the other resting lightly on the floor. He was surfing his laptop for the tenth time, trying to find some idea of why they weren't leaving.

Print-outs and newspaper clippings of supernatural events in other states were spread out on the table around him, but Dean had hardly glanced at them on his way in to get a drink. It wasn't like him, to not want to go off and hunt.

Rubbing his face, Sam took a sip of the beer sitting next to him, and frowned when he heard his brother talking, followed by girlish laughter. Getting to his feet, and stretching, the younger brother opened the door, and his eyebrow rose.

"Die! Foul villian!" Selene laughed, taking a swipe at Dean with a wooden sword clutched in one hand.

"You'll never get me!" Dean dodged the sword tip, and started to run off, staying in the 'playing area' he had marked off from the Impala to the curb, a good two or three empty parking spots.

"Yes I will!" She laughed, giving chase, easily catching up on the slow Dean, pushing him to the ground.

"All right, all right! I give!" Dean chuckled, Selene standing over him triumphantly, poking him in the shoulder with the sword. "The great warrior has defeated me, aahhhahhh- Sam?"

Amused by the abrupt change in his brother now that he knew he was watching, Sam crossed his arms. "Oh, by all means, do continue."

Gently patting Selene on the shoulder, Dean got to his feet. The little girl pouted up at him, but he ruffled her hair. "It's getting late, why don't you head on inside and get something to eat."

Selene's face brightened, and in a shy voice she murmurred, "Will you be here to play tomorrow, Mister Dean?" Her innocent eyes blinked up at him.

"Yeah.. I'll be here tomorrow." Dean's smile was for her, but his eyes were on Sam.

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Heh. It's a little shorter than normal, but that's because I'm finishing this at 5:30 in the morning. So...yaah. Got a little parental!Dean in there... Cause Selene is just so cute like that. Well, let me know what you think, kay?


	4. Nothing wrong with me

On the Flip Side

Chapter four: Nothing wrong with me

By: Ambrlupin

Summary: John Winchester knew something was needed for his boys, even after his death. So he enlisted a little help after the fact. Now Dean has to deal with what he fears most, Sam's psychic powers, because well... They're not Sam's anymore.

Disclaimer: -sigh- Nope. I wish I owned them. But I do not. They'd take them away if I did.

A/N: I'm so sorry, you guys. I'm still alive, I promise you. I graduated from high school (yay for me!) when everyone thought I wouldn't. But things are so hectic at home that its hard to find time to sit down and write. My father is going to be gone for a while, and mom and I have to make due with what we have, ontop of our eviction from the house we're staying in due to rent problems. So it's a big mess and I'm trying to keep our heads above water. I really want to update this story, and I will be working here soon to get you a new chapter. I just don't want to lose my readers, you all mean the world to me, and I'm sorry for being so absent. Please forgive me.

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Sam woke late in the day, which was rather unusual for him. That was more Dean's style than his own. But the clock didn't lie. More importantly, though, since it was two in the afternoon, where was his brother?

He stared up at the ceiling for what felt like hours, just studying the rough texture before he sighed and sat up, rotating his shoulders. For sleeping most of the day away, he didn't feel very refreshed, but it was more than usual, so he was fine with it.

A bout of childish laughter hit his ears once he had rolled out of bed, and he pulled back the heavy motel curtains to see Dean and Selene playing outside on the sidewalk. Well, one question solved. Ten thousand to go.

Such as, why did Dean suddenly change his mind on staying? It couldn't have been because of the little girl and her mother. That wasn't his brother's style. Or was it? One could hardly tell with Dean Winchester. However, something told Sam that wasn't why, and he was back to just having more questions.

Frowning at the glass, he turned around and grabbed a bottle of water from the mini fridge, unscrewing the lid and taking a swig of it as he settled before his computer. He ran his fingers through his hair as it started up, and grinned when it announced he had mail.

His grin faded completely as he read it.

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"Mister Dean?" Selene's timid voice was at his ear as she poked him. "Mister Dean?"

Dean lay sprawled on the sidewalk, an arm thrown up away from his body at an angle, eyes closed. He didn't even move as the girl poked at him. His breathing was ragged, harsh, but barely even there.

"Mister Dean..." her lower lip trembled, and she shoved at him with both hands. Another failed attempt at moving him or waking him up. "Mister Dean!"

A faint smile slipped over the hunter's face as he opened his eyes, arm snapping around her waist so quickly it made her scream in girlish laughter and push at him. "Don't do that, mister Dean!"

Dean chuckled, patting her on the head and letting her go before she managed to clock him or put too much weight on his stomach. "Sorry, kid." He let her know he was only playing and got to his feet, brushing himself off.

Rubbing at his head, he gently prodded her back to her room to get something to eat as he opened the door to his own, smirk in place as he saw his brother awake. "Ah, morning sunshine." he greeted, stretching as he pulled a bottle of Tylenol from the side table's drawer and washed a few pills down with some water.

Sam ignored the jab and just continued to read the email, fingers tapping absently on the hard wood of the table."Knock it off Dean, I got an email this morn- are you all right?" He'd looked up just in time to see the pills disappear into his mouth.

"Mm, headache." Dean waved it away and came over, leaning against the table as he looked at the other calmly. "So, email?"

"From Missouri." The younger continued, mostly looking at the screen though his eyes occasionally went back to his brother. "You know how we told her to email us if she had problems or found anything out."

"Yeah. So she found something?"

"I don't know. She just wants us to come see her." Looking up then, Sam noticed the way his brother's arm had wrapped around his stomach and his eyes narrowed. "Bust your stitches, Dean?"

Easily moving his arm away, he shrugged. "Don't know what you're talking about."

"Yes, you do. You can't be playing around like that." Sam got up, advancing on the shorter brother, making a pass to jerk his shirt away from the bandages. But of course it couldn't be easy, and Dean just moved away.

"Woah, easy there Sherlock Holmes. You've been staring at the computer screen for too long. Its fried your brain. I'm fine." He gave him a dashing smile. "I'm Dean Winchester. I'm indestructible."

"Like hell." Sam retorted, and after a scuffle that tore up most of the room, he eventually managed to grab his brother and pin him down on the bed long enough to see the blood that stained the pristine bandages. "Damn it, Dean!"

Pushing him off, and knocking him flat on his ass for good measure, the older shrugged into his jacket. "Stop it, Sam. I don't need you looking after me like some child. I already told you. I'm fine."

"I didn't know bleeding meant fine." He got back up, eyes confused. He just couldn't figure out why he was being fought so much on this. It was such a simple thing. "Dean, what's gotten into you?"

"Nothing!" He exploded then, knocking over a chair so that it fell to the floor with a sharp crash. "Nothing is wrong with me! I'm fine. Do you hear me, Sam? I'm _fine_!" And with those parting words, he was out the door, slamming it behind him.

Which left the younger blinking in surprise and wondering what had happened to his usual calm, unshakable, older brother.

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_Sam tossed the knife to him and he caught it one handed, sticking it on his belt as he moved off, silent and easily through the woods. They didn't have any idea what was going on in this backwards little town, but Dean could tell you that it had better be their sort of job or he was going to kill. _

_A week and a half without television and barely any internet connection was torture. Add in the fact that there wasn't even a __**bar**__ and you had a place that the older Winchester never wanted to visit. Ever. Again._

_The town was something straight out of the pages of those history books that you never really read in school, only pretended to. Religious fanatics that didn't believe in television or internet or drinking. At this point even Sam wanted to finish this as quickly as could humanly be possible. It was wearing on both of their nerves. _

_Feeling a branch crack under his foot, he stilled, but didn't hear anything other than his brother's even breathing behind him. Stepping forward again, he was careful as he peered out into a clearing and blinked. _

_"And they say I have interesting hobbies." _

_Trying not to chuckle from the slap that whispered comment had earned him, Dean watched the girls frolic around like wannabe witches in the modern age. Sort of a cross between that stupid book, The Crucible, and Charmed._

_Normally this wouldn't be their job, if it weren't for the fact that these girls w ere doing something right, and they weren't alone in that clearing. Spirits, of what no one knew, were around them, gaining power from the excited children. _

_"This is going to be a bitch." Dean muttered, shaking his head. They had to deal with the spirits and keep the girls from running away and getting the entire town on their backs. With their luck they'd be hung. That was old school, right? _

_"Not up to charming?" Sam teased, his gun at his side. "We can't hurt them." _

_"No shit." Rolling his eyes, Dean got up and stowed his gun at the small of his back as he walked into the clearing despite his brother's startled sputtering. "Hello ladies." _

_Shrieking, they all jumped into a group, the spirits huddled around as if to protect them. "Get away! You don't belong here!" One of them commanded, pointing her finger at him._

_"Neither does Casper, there. Why don't you tell me exactly what you did, hm?" He gave her the patented Dean smirk, but was started when she left her friends, walking right up to him and slapping him straight across the face. _

_"Filth." She snarled at him, not caring as her wrist was caught by his hand. "I can see what you're thinking. I've seen what you've been thinking since you entered out clearing. You are nothing more than a pig." _

_Eyes widening just a touch, he held her hand down, though his grip loosened a bit at that. So maybe he had been thinking that a bunch of girls together like that... what? He couldn't have his own thoughts anymore? And then what she said hit him and he let her go like she had burned him. _

_He was never very good with that physic shit. Especially not when it was used on him. He had enough trouble as it was dealing with his brother. Quite frankly though, it scared him. Monsters he could handle, no matter what gifts they happened to have. But people? Humans with abilities like that... He couldn't handle it. _

_It wasn't right. It wasn't natural. It was completely one hundred percent wrong. And she saw all this in his head, along with the knowledge of what he was going to do to their protector, their holy spirit in the flesh. She made a sound of complete outrage, jerking the knife from his belt before he could even react. _

_He heard his brother yell a warning, but all he felt was the knife slash across his stomach, warm blood spilling down his skin. A choked sound slipped from his lips, and she smiled, laying a hand on his cheek. "Go with God." _

_The last thing he remembered, despite the aching pain that tore at him - she had dug deep, was seeing his brother leaping forward, psychic on psychic, before he blacked out on the grass. Unable to help, unable to protect. _

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Dean sat on the hood of the Impala, looking out over the people as they walked around. His fingertips touched his stomach absently, feeling the bandages under his shirt. He'd been distracted that day. Because he had been lost in his own mind. Something he'd never allowed to happen before. Ever.

But it was different this time, because he was thinking about his brother. About his visions. Would his little Sammy be that powerful too? Would he be able to read minds? Would he use it against him? Powers like this corrupted. He'd seen it first hand.

He was the sworn enemy of those things that went bump in the night, and his brother's powers, as handy as they were sometimes, were evil. Swallowing, he rubbed at his face and pulled out the Tylenol bottle, swallowing a few more pills down.

Stupid headaches.

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A little longer. I'm not too sure I wrote the flashback well enough for everyone to understand... But I was moving to get this out as quick as I could. Not to mention the fact that I forgot you can't have strictly author note chapters. So I had to move quick and replace the update chapter I put up with the real one.

I just hope I haven't lost all my readers in my absence. Review? Yes? Please?


	5. This isn't right

On the Flip Side

Chapter five: This isn't right

By: Ambrlupin

Summary: John Winchester knew something was needed for his boys, even after his death. So he enlisted a little help after the fact. Now Dean has to deal with what he fears most, Sam's psychic powers, because well... They're not Sam's anymore.

Disclaimer: -sigh- Nope. I wish I owned them. But I do not. They'd take them away if I did. Believe me.

A/N: It's short, but Im moving tomorrow. Got my plane ticket and all. So I'll see all my loverly readers soon, yeah?

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The asphalt was cool, after-effects from the rain they'd been having. The ball made loud sounds as it hit and came back up, over and over again. But there was no childish laughter, only sadness and a frown that wouldn't go away.

"Where are you, Mister Dean?" Selene whispered, wiping at her face and runny nose with her sleeve. He hadn't been around lately, and when he was, he didn't seem to want to play with her anymore. It hurt, but she couldn't tell her mommy. She got the feeling that her mommy didn't like them. Mister Dean and Mister Sammy.

The Impala was in its spot, but the drapes were closed in the room. She sighed and went back to bouncing her ball. She threw it down too hard and didn't catch it on its way up. Gasping, she ran after the rolling ball, trying to grasp it as it rolled.

Finally she managed to grab it, smiling to herself as she stood straight and looked up.

And screamed.

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Dean bolted up in bed, the little girl's screams still in his ears. Jumping up, he made it halfway to the door when he realized where he was. Pausing with his hand on the doorknob he looked out the window and saw nothing but black.

Turning around he vaguely made out the lump that was his brother in bed, and the clock flashing the damning numbers of 2:45. A dream then? Blowing air from between his lips, he rubbed his face, stumbling in the bathroom to grab the Tylenol bottle, taking a few before he stared at himself in the mirror.

"Am I losing my mind? Having nightmares? Me?"

"Dean?" A very groggy Sam called, sitting up a little in the bed. Having been woken by the light from the bathroom."You all right?"

"Yeah, Sammy. Yeah, I'm fine." He looked back at his own face, and calmly flicked the light off. Standing there for a moment more, he frowned and shook his head, moving to jump back under the covers and get some more sleep. The debate on whether or not to go see Missouri was still in effect and would return once they both woke up.

He needed his rest to deal with all that.

And yet, it was another hour before he finally managed to get that girl's screams out of his head so he could sleep.

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"Mister Dean!"

Looking over at the happy cry, he smiled at the little girl, and threw his bag in the backseat of the Impala. "Hey there, Selene. What's up?"

Those smart wide eyes looked between the bag and him, and her bottom lip came out in a

pout. "You're leaving. Aren't you?" Suddenly all thoughts of play were wiped clean from her mind. Play didn't matter. He was leaving.

For some reason, he had warning bells going off in his head. But he mostly ignored them. He was just going away for a little while. Just to see Missouri. His brother had won that debate. Damn Sam and his puppy eyes. Got him almost every time.

"I've got to." He replied softly, moving forward and taking a knee, brushing some hair from her face. "I have to go see someone really important. I don't have a choice. Are you going to be all right with that?"

Biting at her lip, she dropped her ball and flung her arms around Dean's neck, clinging so tightly it had the elder Winchester blinking in complete shock. He hesitated, and then he hugged her back tightly, not even noticing when Sam came out to join Selene's mother by the doors.

"I'm sorry about my daughter."

Sam shook his head, eyes mostly glued to the most interesting picture his brother was making. "Don't be. I think she's been an influence on my brother." he looked over and smiled at her. "By the way, I'm Sam." He held his hand out.

She laughed, taking his hand. "That's right. I never did introduce myself. I'm Cheryl."

"It's nice to meet you." He nodded, but frowned. "Um, if you don't mind me asking..." His eyes flashed back between her and Selene. "Her father.."

She shook her head sadly. "Died when she was just a baby. That could be why she's clinging over your brother so much. I really am sorry about that, by the way..."

"Don't be. Really."

This was a side of his brother he'd only seen once or twice, and it was rare enough as it was, so he let it go and didn't disturb them. He'd long since given up on trying to figure his brother out. Dean Winchester was a mystery. Even, sometimes, to his younger brother.

Kissing her forehead, Dean let her go, ruffling her hair. "You be careful, all right kiddo?" He flashed her a smile, getting to his feet. "Sam! Let's go."

Selene ran back to her mother, ball in hand and waving. "Bye Mister Dean! Bye Mister Sammy!"

Sam blinked back at her, and slid into the passenger side, shutting the door with a slam. "Sammy?" He demanded of his brother, who only laughed and put the car in drive.

"What? Kids a natural." winking, he hit the gas and they zoomed out of the parking lot, turning off toward Lawrence with Dean's laughter flying behind them on the wind.

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"Dean? Dean!" The last was accompanied by a shake to his shoulder and finally the elder turned to look at his brother, confusion in his eyes.

"What?" He demanded.

"Lights green." Sam replied calmly. "It has been for the past three minutes. Are you all right?" His face was shrouded in shadow. It was late, and they were well on their way. Things had been quiet, but he hadn't said a word, until now.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine." He shook his head slowly, rubbing at his eyes. "I just..."

"What?" He shifted, looking at him. "Maybe you need sleep. Maybe you're just tired. Come on, let me drive." He started to open his door, but bit off a curse as the Impala spun in a tight U-turn, and he fell back in, the door slamming shut with a crash. "What the hell, Dean?!"

"Something isn't right." He muttered, pressing down on the gas pedal even more, until they were zooming back along the dark streets. "How long will it take us to get back?"

"What?" Blinking, Sam shook his head. He just couldn't keep up. "Dean, what are you doing? Going back? Why?"

"Just answer the damn question, Sam!"

The younger blinked at the tone, and did some quick calculations. "It's four in the morning, so I'd say... a few hours.. Maybe late afternoon. Dean, what is going on?"

Dean didn't answer him, no matter what he said, or what he did. He just ignored him and drove. Straight back through the places they'd already been, dangerously challenging the speed limits in the way only he could.

But it was all too apparent when they pulled into the motel parking lot and came to a halt. Sam stared, openmouthed, and Dean was hiding behind the mask he put up to keep his emotions from showing. But even those were failing.

Red and blue, flashing in the air. Dean opened his door, stepping out and grabbing the nearest badge, flashing it at a cop that tried to keep him back. He walked, with determination and purpose, behind the police tape, and stopped short.

There was no telling what that speed would do to a little kid, but there was enough blood on the pavement to tell it hadn't been pretty. He felt like his heart was being squeezed and it was hard to breathe. He somewhat felt Sam coming up behind him, laying a hand on his shoulder.

"Dean?"

"I don't understand." He whispered, staring at the scene, at the crying mother, and the black body bag. At the red ball that looked so abandoned, just laying there. "This isn't how I saw it. It's wrong...It's all wrong."

Sam frowned at his words. "Dean...what did you just say?"

"This isn't right... I'm telling you. This isn't right!" He was moving, running, in no direction really, just trying to find the hidden cameras. The director yelling cut. Something. Anything. This just wasn't real. It couldn't be.

His brother, startled and slightly scared by his actions and words, he ran up, grabbing the other around the shoulders and pinning him to a wall to keep him there. "Dean. What did you just say?"

And just like that, the elder realized it himself, and stared at the other, confusion and even a little bit of fear in his eyes. "I...Sammy, I..."

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Slight cliffhanger, not too bad. How shall Sam react? How will Dean tell him. -WILL- he tell him? So many questions. Heh. Love you guys!


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